


The Curst Seraphim

by 100xGrounder



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Social Media AU, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-20
Updated: 2015-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-05 08:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4173369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/100xGrounder/pseuds/100xGrounder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven is on a date. Murphy is on a date.<br/>Yet, they both find themselves texting each other, instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Curst Seraphim

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Violence. And steak knives.  
> You have been warned. (no death)

“The Curst Seraphim”

Chapter 1:

The evening had been quite a bore for Murphy. Between stories from Victoria and the bad service from the restaurant, there was no hope of this going anywhere. He might even say that the best part of his day was texting Raven between small talk with his date. His phone played two harmonious tones and displayed the words: New message from Winged Creature. He attempted to cove it under his jacket, out of sight from his date, in order to check it.

This guy is giving me a migraine bigger than the dinner he ordered–and trust me, it’s big. :$

He laughed, then caught himself, he tried not to ignore Victoria while texting Raven. Glancing up from his phone he found her still talking about her ex-boyfriend, stopping every now and then to lift a spoon of clam chowder into her mouth.  
“The sad part was,” She ranted. “I had already seen the movie four times so I just sat there staring at the guy. That was all our dates ever were. He’d go out to see a movie I’d already seen and I’d just stare at him all night.” She shrugged. “I’ve been looking for something else, someone else,” she corrected, “ever since. I always knew there was more than Jesse, more than movies.” A pause. Another bite of soup.  
“Mmm-hmm.” He scanned back down to his phone to reply to Raven.

At least he’s not shoveling mouthfuls of chowder into his mouth every five seconds.

A moment later and another text appeared on his screen.

At least she’s not making a move to grope you every five seconds.

And another, along with it.

I just want to LEAVE, he’s driving me insane w all his flirting/winking/you like me, don’t you?

 

*******

New message from John, read Raven’s cell.  
“Who’s that?” Asked Ethan. “You’re not asking someone to come and give you a ride home, right?” He laughed, jokingly. He had been making a lot of jokes that evening.“Nah, I’m just kidding, you’re a babe.” Another wink. Raven gave a nervous giggle and checked her phone.

He’s doing what? I’m coming to get you.

“What, no!” She panicked, reading it again and then a third time.  
“What?” Ethan asked, leaning over toward her cell. She shrouded it, and slid her plate away from her.  
“Nothing it’s just, I think the meat wasn’t cooked all the way, would you excuse me for a moment?” She stood up and started to walk away towards the ladies’ room.  
“Wait, where are you going, Rav?” Ethan yelled across the aisle of tables. “We’re on a date.”  
“Ladies’ room.” She mouthed out, “I’ll be right back.”  
“Hurry!” He shouted, again. “Or I might eat your hamburger!” He joked.  
She had had enough of his “jokes”.

*******

“I really hope you’re not like Jesse. He was a total douche. But you’re different, I can see it in your eyes.” Victoria raved. “You’ve got that innocent kinda look in your face. I like it.” She smiled and winked. Yes, Innocent as a dove. Murphy thought, critically, trying to think of an excuse to leave.

Incoming call from Winged Creature. His phone blared--at the highest volume--an awful song from the 80s and nearly made him fall out of his chair.  
“Sorry.” He walked away from the table and stood outside the restaurant doors as he answered the call.  
“Don’t come!” She wined. “He’ll get offended if I leave. I don’t want him to think I don’t like him.”  
“But you don’t like him.” There was a moment of silence. “Look, just tell me where he took you, I’ll be there, soon.” More long silence. More objection from Raven. And more of Murphy insisting that he’ll take her home. She sighed, happy he kept insisting. Honestly, this date couldn’t end soon enough. She hated this guy. He was rude, loud, entirely not meant for her.  
“Lafell’s.” She said, quietly. Murphy could almost guess that she was crying. The image burned into his mind, a twinge of guilt pierced through his stomach.  
“Hey, Reyes,” His voice was soft and caring. “Don’t worry . . . Dates aren’t meant to go well. And if it makes you feel any better, my date has been unspeakably terrible.” She laughed, slightly.  
“Thank you.” She whispered through the fuzziness of the call. He hung up and walked back inside.

“Oh, hey, babe! What’s up?” Victoria said. He shuddered at her use of the word Babe.  
“I gotta go.” He said, dryly.  
“What? But I forgot to tell you . . .” He grabbed a twenty out of his wallet and placed it on the table, then left. “Jesse got a new girlfriend!” She yelled at him. He ran his hand through the fringe of his hair and just before leaving, said:  
“Victoria, I forgot to tell you . . . I don’t care about Jesse.”

*******  
As she exited the woman’s bathroom, she found Ethan, standing outside, watching, as she approached him.  
“Hey,” she said, cheerfully. Her red mini dress swayed in the lighthearted movement of her legs motioned for them to go back to their table.  
“Leaving, huh?” His voice was rough. He’d obviously been listening to her phone call. A sick feeling rose in her lower abdomen, accompanied by a shamed look inscribed all over the planes of her face. Her lack of language was what gave her away, though.  
“What?” She barely managed. For an agelong eternity they stared at each other, him threateningly, her feeling threatened. She opened her mouth to speak, but decided to run, instead. The look in his eyes; the menacing, lustful, angry look in his eyes sent chills down her spine.  
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” He growled, grabbing her wrist and twisting the bone until her vision was spotted with black and grey dots. A gasp-almost-shriek broke into the formal diner’s air, no one looked up, no one noticed. They were, both, far out of sight.  
“Let. Go.” She struggled to break free from his strong grip, tears welled up in her pleading eyes. Her heart raced with sheer panic. “Please, just let me go.”  
“Always on the phone, aren’t you? I’ll never be enough. I’ve never been anything but a date to you.”  
“I met you last week, I just want to go home, I promise. Let go and I won’t call the police.” Her words were bold, between clenched teeth. But they held no threat to him. Beneath his fingers, her veins lost circulation. “I’ll scream.” She blurted out. Her words were honest, her intent was to do just that. But the steak knife, suddenly hovering behind her back changed her mind. He’s got a knife!? She thought, horrified. He’s got a fricking steak knife!  
“Follow me and as long as you don’t make a sound, I won’t rack your heart out with this knife.” A smile. A step toward the back exit. His hand on her waist, guiding her to the corners of hell. It was dark outside. Almost ten o’clock. Behind a building, nighttime, a knife held up to her back. Yep, the perfect murder scene. She choked on her own sobs as the silence filled the frosty October air. She could she a car, nearby. Someone to scream for. But no, it was empty, she realized. It was empty and it was his car.  
“I promise you, sweetheart, you’ll enjoy this.” He grinned, a handsome smile. Beautiful eyes. Perfect hair. Cunning features to veil a cunning man’s evil face. As he directed her into the back of the van, she jabbed him in the stomach with her elbow and though, he was taken back by it, it only strengthened him to push her further. She screamed a wretched cry for help. A throaty sob louder than she’d ever yelled before.  
It happened too quickly for her to see. Her mind was fogged. Her vision was blurred. Metal dropping to the snowy asphalt. The steak knife. Punching. Blood. Grunting. She collapsed. But she was accompanied by another collapsing body. And then lifted into the arms of an angel. She closed her eyes, acknowledging that Ethan was probably beaten unconscious by whoever her rescuer was. She turned off her brain, closed her mouth, lips, cracked from the cold.  
And fell asleep.

*******

He held her close to his chest. Her heart beat in unison with his, though asleep and cold as frost. Drifting between consciousness and drowsiness, she sobbed and choked. She wrapped her arms around him and cried into his jacket. He smelled like firewood and nutmeg. Hope and safety. The wind that blows your ponytail out of it’s hair-tie and into the summer air. He smelled like comfort. And he smelled like compassion.  
He laid her down in the passenger seat of his car and closed the door.  
“No, wait, don’t leave me!” She begged. She almost seemed drunk. Possibly drugged. She was seeing things around her, invisible shadows lurking about. Fear and shock crowded her behind the walls of the vehicle.  
“It’s okay Raven, I’m right here, I won’t leave you.” Murphy whispered, brushing her hair behind her ear and wiping a small glass-like tear from her scarlet-red cheek. She was shaking, whether it be from fear, anger or cold; Murphy removed his jacket and laid it on top of her.  
He drove her to her apartment and held her hand as they waited for the elevator. He told her everything was okay and shushed her crying, as she thought of the knife held behind her back just minutes earlier. He walked her to the old, beaten up couch in her living room and tucked her in. And when she asked him not to leave, he laid down next to her and wrapped her body up in his arms. He stroked her hair as she slept and kissed her forehead, gently.  
She was asleep. But he still whispered to her. Stories, memories, lullabies.  
He told her, with loving endearment: Dates aren’t meant to go well . . . But friendships always will.


End file.
